LAST EASTER I FAILED as a mom. I failed to mail a chocolate bunny to my adult son who lives in Boston. It wasn’t that I forgot, but rather that I didn’t want to spend the money for a chunk of chocolate which seemed overpriced at the time. I also really didn’t think my son cared all that much about getting a bunny from me. He did.
So this year, more than a week before Easter, I picked up a 3-ounce solid chocolate bunny for $2.97 and mailed it for $8.10. Not exactly fiscally smart. But sometimes you can’t put a price on tradition, love and expectations of a loved one.
That got me thinking about Easter traditions, both secular and faith-based. Easter, for me, has always been a mix of each with the primary focus on celebrating Christ’s resurrection.
As a child, I dyed eggs with my five siblings and parents, something I continued with my three children. As a child, I set my repurposed yellow plastic cottage cheese container, filled with plastic grass, on the kitchen table. The next morning my siblings and I awakened way too early to search for our Easter “baskets” hidden somewhere inside our farmhouse.
I’m sure Mom would have preferred we slept in. But you can’t curtail a child’s excitement over getting candy, a rare treat back in the day. The goal was always to find our baskets before heading to worship services at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Vesta.
If we could get away with it, we inked our arms with temporary tattoos from the Easter egg dyeing kit. Mom preferred we wait until after church to stamp our skin. But we kids didn’t always listen.
We did, however, listen when Mom told us to get ready for church, the boys in their suits or other dress clothes and us girls in our Easter dresses and bonnets. Or as my sister still reminds me, in the ugly yellow daisy dress handed down from me to her.
I still remember with great fondness the ensemble—a lime green skirt and jacket with a sleeveless floral top—stitched by my godmother one Easter. I carried a lime green purse, completing the fashionable look. Oh, how I wish I still had that 1960s outfit. Perhaps my granddaughter could wear it. Or maybe not. She might just tell me, “To be honest with you, Grandma…,” as she did recently about a frozen cheese pizza she didn’t like.
Once my siblings and I arrived at St. John’s in our Easter finery, we scampered up the steep steps to the balcony. There we joyously sang “I Know That My Redeemer Lives” with other Sunday School students. That remains my favorite Easter hymn.
While decades have passed since those childhood Easters back on the southwestern Minnesota prairie, the lessons I learned and the faith that grew inside me remain strong.
Now, as the aging matriarch of the family, I find our Easter celebration evolving. My eldest daughter and her husband often host Easter dinner. And if I don’t worship at my own church, Trinity Lutheran, I join her family for worship in their Lakeville church, ironically named St. John’s.
Halfway across the country, my son will likely be alone on Easter. But he will at least have the chocolate bunny I mailed to him from Minnesota, without fail this year.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Maundy Thursday reflections April 2, 2026
Tags: art, Christ, commentary, disciples, faith, Holy Week, Jesus, Jesus' betrayal, John 13:34, love one another, Maundy Thursday, paint-by-number, Scripture, The Last Supper
IMAGINE IF YOU were sitting down to your last meal with dear friends. How would you feel? What would you say to them?
Jesus faced this scenario on Maundy Thursday as he gathered with his 12 disciples for a final Passover meal before his death by crucifixion the next day. Had it been me, I would have been terrified at the thought of such an agonizing death.
Christ showed incredible strength. He managed to continue teaching, loving, forgiving, even as the time of his death approached. He was certainly troubled, as Scripture tells us. I mean, how could he not be bothered, knowing that one of his disciples would betray him, with a kiss of all things? I would feel devastated.
But Jesus is not anyone. He embodies love. And he tells us to love. Correction, he commands his disciples (and us, too) to love each other. He says: A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another (John 13:34).
As I consider all the division and hatred among us today, I focus on Christ and his example of unconditional love. Throughout his earthly life, Jesus continually showed compassion and care, often to the downtrodden, the outcasts, the lowly. I’m quite certain if he was physically walking on this earth today, he would still be showing such mercy.
He’d also be greatly disappointed, even upset, about the way we sometimes treat each other.
So what’s the point here? Maundy Thursday marks a monumental day for reflection. For change. For striving to follow Christ’s directive to love one another. And that starts with each of us. Today.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling